The Warding of Witch World

Epilogue Es City, Estcarp

The seasons had turned and once more it was spring, even though few signs of a renewing world showed within the age-old capital of Estcarp.

But the outer harbor was crowded with ships, and the streets were decked in festival array as they had never been in memory.

Not only was every inn packed to the point that sleeping room at night was allotted to guests on the floors of already crowded rooms, but every household had opened doors to distant kin, or strangers recommended by such.

There was constant traffic on the streets, even to the meanest of alleys. So much so that the guard had been ordered out early to patrol ways for provision wagons to bring in needed stores.

Crowds gathered day and night to watch the passing of notables they had heard of sometimes all their lives but had never thought to actually look upon.

The center of this busy and confused web was again the great hall of the citadel itself, though sometimes there was an overflow into the courtyard when newcomers must be received with full ceremony.

Flags of noble houses signified the presence of every family of note—even some from troubled Karsten, where there was still a bitter struggle in process for the ducal throne. And strangest of all were two banners those of Estcarp had in their lives faced only in battle—bearing variations of the hounds of Alizon.

All those gathered knew that once more their world had changed—not this time by the awesome Power which pulled down mountains and moved rivers, but because it was the beginning of a new age.

Just as it had taken those shaken by disaster in the mountains to welcome life again in strange places, so was it now that all faced change to which many came warily, but from which there was no escape.

In the great hall once more there was the gathering of those of Power: those who ruled, those in whose grasp now the future of their world rested. They might peer warily at one another, but they listened and understood—even if some did only dimly.

One representative of each of the ruling houses occupied a chair on the dais, for there was limited room, and the chairs themselves were crowded so tightly together that no one occupant could move without disturbing a fellow.

Here showed a gray robe of the witches—she who was presently Knowledge Holder. They recognized her in their company as Diamond, since all witches’ true names were forgotten when they came to the Place of Wisdom. Her chair needed no banner above it—there was no mistaking a witch. Her serene face showed no sign of aging and it was true she was one of the younger sisters lately come to her office.

There was Simon Tregarth, outlander, founder with his witch wife Jaelithe of a house which had served Estcarp and Escore mightily over the years. Then came Jaelithe herself, and beyond her Hilarion, the last of the great adepts, and Dahaun of the Green Valley, high in the holding of Power. Next to her, those from overseas: Alon and Eydryth of the Gryphon line; Firdun, who was now protector of the Waste; and from the Dales, Lord Imry, whose constant struggle to bring peace to the holdings there was at last near completion.

Beside him was Kerovan, Lord of the Eyrie, preserving distance between the Dales lord and he who represented the enemy the Dales had brought to bitter defeat: Lord Kasarian out of Alizon. Strangest of all were the two who were plainly close comrades but of different species altogether. One was the Lady Eleeri, another outlander who had come to right, through her own efforts, an ancient wrong. Close across her shoulder was the head of a Keplian mare, her blue eyes shrewdly aware of all about them.

Last of all two women, their furred and much-beaded dress strange in this company. The one wore, like a ruler’s mantle, a cloak of feathers, and the other, her gold hair in Sulcar braids, sat with her eyes downcast as if she felt she had no place there.

It was given to Koris as commander in this place to speak first, and as he did so the murmur of voices in the throng below quieted.

“What honor can we give those who have faced the Dark and come forth victors? The deeds of such are meat for bards, and their names will last into the far future when all the rest here shall be forgot. But once more shall they be told in this company, gathered from all our known world, so that their honor can be made manifest in all countries, in every hall, by the hearth of every holding.”

He paused. There was a hum of voices as those massed to listen agreed.

“We rode in Estcarp and Escore to good purpose—though it will be long before the last roots of the Dark can be dragged from growth in our earth.

“To the south, crossing lands unknown before, we hail these.” He spoke slowly, pausing for a fraction after each name:

“The Lady Eleeri, her Lord Romar, the Keplian kind who are our true comrades. With them as watch, guard, and guide, the Lady Mouse of the sisterhood, two Falconers and armsmen of courage, as well as the Lady Liara out of Alizon and chosen arms-men.”

At that name Kasarian stirred and sought the face of one near the fore of the listeners.

“Also they were joined by another outlander, a mighty warrior for the Light—Gruck—and she who is the chosen Voice of Gunnora, and her friend the cat, Chief. There went also one of the house which had ever been a strong support for us—Keris Tregarth. All have heard the tale of how he went into the Dark to serve and that the Light called him forth as a true son.

“The Voice and Gruck do not stand here today. It is by their choice that they remain in the south, where more of our people of knowledge will join them later.

“In Arvon there were also those who came at the call of need. The House of the Gryphon held fast, and those they sent forth are of the same strength of mind and body. Firdun, of their own blood, and the were Kethan and his foster sister, the healer Aylinn. With them the Kioga, Guret and their warriors—one of whom went to the last reward of Heroes—may Obred be ever honored so. Also one saved from the Dark—as well as the Lady Uta, who joined to be their guide. And lastly Ibycus, he who was protector of the land from the ancient days, and the Lady Elysha.

“They fought the Dark in many ways and in the end lost both Ibycus and the Lady Elysha, whose work for the Light was deemed finished. Now Firdun will ride the Waste and the trails and perhaps in time there will be others to join him.

“But those who went north also gained. The Lady Frost and the Shaman Inquit united in strength—though their Powers differed greatly. And the Lord Simond and his Lady Trusla were not far behind them. Nor was Captain Stymir and his mate Joul. The Latt champion Odanki, whose great strength was their safety many times, served better than any other might have. And last of all there is the Lady Audha, who brought back to us, through sore troubling of spirit, new knowledge.” He glanced at the Sulcar girl, who still looked down and did not meet the eyes of any there.

“Now since these, no matter what their heritage, won for us the safety of our world, have again been named in full honor, we do not forget those of Lormt: the adept Hilarion, the Lady Mereth, the sage scholars who sought the final knowledge. To say thanks for such services is a too small thing. We can only give them our heart gratitude.

“So we have once more changed our world. And now we call upon those who have asked that they be allowed to speak about certain things at this meeting that there be no thought of any secret and misunderstanding in the future. Lady Diamond…”

There was a stir as the witch arose. Her hand covered her jewel as if that touch provided her with some strength as she spoke.

“In the past there has been bitterness and denial—we have believed that the Power was only truly ours. But such useless pride was first swept away at the Turning. And now we have also had much to learn, we who thought ourselves above schooling. Our domain is still this land—or any other which needs what we have to offer. But we do not rule in Es any longer. Those who have talent and wish to come to us we shall welcome gladly. However, it will be by their choice, not ours. The Place of Wisdom is now our citadel and therein shall our order abide.”

Koris bowed his head. “Lady, none will deny your gifts and those of your daughters. That we labor toward a common end is truly a way of life we shall welcome.”

She had seated herself when Koris swung to Kasarian.

“Lord, we have been blood enemies for all our lives and the lives of our fathers before us. Still, since you found your door to Lormt, surely there is hope that we, also, can have peace along our Borders.”

When the young Alizondern arose to answer, it was almost as if his white hair shown silver. His hands moved in the traditional formal gestures of his kind even as he answered.

“To the ignorant belongs fear, Lord Marshal. I have learned what one of my blood might never have known had not chance and my curiosity transported me into your Lormt. We are a country of treachery, hatred, and spying. There are those among us who will never accept even a truce with you. But those are the elder lords for the most part, and they are ever at each other’s throats. There is an easier way to gain rulership than by steel and poison, and it is one I am trying to learn.

“There is one here to whom I owe an honor debt.” He looked down into the company below. “My sister Liara has taught me that the fabled line of the great mage does run true in us. If she wishes—chooses—I offer her great danger but also a part in change.”

Slowly the girl arose from where she had been seated.

“You are Hound Master of the House,” she said clearly. “If I be in truth Hearthmistress at present under that roof…” she hesitated. “I am Alizondern, knowing the tricks and terrors which assault all our houses. Somehow I believe that I am indeed the one to stand behind you.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Beside me, as the first Lady of our line stood beside her Lord when all others would pull him down. Though I trust it will not come to that end for us.”

“What of the Dales, Lord Imry?” Koris asked.

The dark-haired man who appeared to wear a permanent line of frown—or anxiety—between his eyes replied slowly.

“The Dales have suffered in the past by ever bickering. We fell to Alizon at first because each lord would fight only for his own holding. This is a lesson now held ever before us. By the end of this season we shall hold a conference to decide some matters. Commander Terlach”—he inclined his head toward a Falconer in the crowd—“has already cleared outlaws from the north hills as far as Quayth. We shall listen to him, a master of the trade of leading men.”

“Thus be it,” Koris said slowly, each word carrying with it nearly the force of an oath. “Always the Dark will rise—for it cannot be entirely driven from any world of man—and then the Light must arm for battle. But no longer need we fear that any outlander evil can burst or creep upon us unaware, perhaps summoned by some perverted talent. For we have Powers of our own, more and stronger than we may now know, just as we have discovered parts of our world before unknown. Perhaps it is now our duty to further that knowledge of both land and sea beyond the maps and charts. We must ever strive to learn more and put what is so learned to proper use.

“This I say, and all here will agree: once more there has been a Turning. Mountains may not have walked, but rather Powers. And from this time forward we shall search and stand sentinel. The old gives way to new, and it is in my reckoning good will come of this and we shall prosper.”

He was silent for a long moment and then said—as one who makes a solemn promise:

“The gates are closed.”